


The World Around Us Disappears

by PawShapedHeart



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/M, The Jolly Roger
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-03 01:41:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11521872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PawShapedHeart/pseuds/PawShapedHeart
Summary: What if Milah never came to Killian’s rescue that night in the alley at dawn when he dueled Rumplestiltskin? What if she stayed on the Jolly Roger per her Captain’s orders? How would their lives of changed and how would they stay the same?I suck at summaries, sorry.





	1. Chapter 1

The night air is seasonally cool as a band of men lead by their leather-clad Captain laugh and makes their way through the cobbled streets. Their laughter is loud, fueled by rum and beer that once filled their many mugs at the small seaport tavern behind them. The crew, a band of maybe 5 or 6 drunkards, laughs and swings their arms in exaggerated gestures behind their captain as he too, takes part in the laughter and stories. The port is just beyond the stone wall separating the small quiet town from the open seas where their ship waits to take them to their next destination. As they pass the stone buildings lining the street, another man of shorter stature cloaked in a brown rags shambles by, bumping into the Captain roughly and pushing him off his path. The Captain’s laughter stops, but his mischievous smile never falters as he points to the cloaked man.

 _“You, stop. Even gutter rats have more manners then you just displayed.”_ The Captain called out to the man who stopped when addressed. The once rowdy band of pirates has fallen silent as they stand behind their Captain, smirking at the begger before them. _“I-I’m so sorry, sir…”_ The man stutters, turning around to face the pirates. The Captain’s grin grows as he ducks his head slightly to get a better look at the imp. His smile grows as the window lights from beside them cast a glow into the stranger’s face. His skin is almost scaly, like that of a reptile with a glittery almost golden sheen. The Captain turned to glance over his shoulder at one of his crew, smirking. _“I was wrong... not a rat at all… more like… more like a crocodile…”_ The pirates all laughed along with their Captain, loud and just as rum fueled as before. The Captain approached, swiping his hand and knocking the beggar’s cup of coins to the ground, the copper pieces scattering across the cobbled street. _“What’s your name, Crocodile…?”_ The captain questioned, kicking the beggar aside with ease, standing over him with his hands on his belt.

The beggar moved to stand from where he fell, lifting himself back to his feet and gave a shrill giggle that was laced with evil intentions. The pirates’ laughter dulled as the beggar stood, his ragged hood pushed aside more as he looked back to the men. It takes a moment, but the Captain recognizes the man; a man from his past at least a decade long ago. _“You… I remember you…”_ The beggar laughs again, the shrill noise accompanied by an equally evil smile. _“Always nice to make an impression. Where are my manners? We haven’t been properly introduced. Rumpelstiltskin. Or, as others know me, the Dark One.”_ The man stated, his arms flourishing about in an exaggerated manner gesturing to himself.

Almost as if pushed back by a force, the band of pirates stepped back, distancing themselves from the Dark One and their Captain. Rumplestiltskin almost purred as he stepped around the now clearly distraught Captain and aimed his intentions at the retreating crew. _“Oh, I see my reputation precedes me.”_ He giggled again, circling back around to face the Captain. _“It does.”_ The Captain’s voice is lower now, muted emotions by the situation. The once drunk pirates are easily sobered when faced with imminent doom from the dreaded Dark One; even their fearless Captain knows the dire situation they find themselves in wont end easily. _“Good! That’s going to save us time during the, uh… question and answer portion of our game.”_ The Dark One laughs out, hands raised in the air to add flourish to his statement.

Biting his lower lip, the Captain begins to turn, facing the other. _“What is it you want to know…?”_ He asked his brows coming together in contemplation as he turned to fully face the Dark One. Information was worth almost as much as gold when your life was on the line, and being a pirate, he knew the value was priceless when facing the Dark One. Rumplestiltskin leaned in closer, breaking person space boundaries like that were made of straw. His voice dropped an octave, going from the evil giggly shrill to a more serious questioning tone. _“How’s Milah, of course?”_ He asked, his eyes locking into the darkened blue of the Captain’s. With a raise of his brow, the Captain shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head as if he was just asked to translate an ancient tome of Latin. _“Who?”_ His smile split his face as he turned to glance over his shoulder at the Dark One.

Rumplestiltskin’s shrill giggle returned, waving his hand in the air with flourish as he walked past the Captain once again. _“Only too happy to, uh, dig out the memory. But, it gets really messy.”_ He declared, facing the Captain again whose face drained a few shades of color at the thought of the Dark One using his dark magic against him. The Captain swallowed, face going somber for a moment before finding his answer. _“She’s dead. Died a long time ago.”_ The Captain’s voice dropped, somber emotions drifting across his face as he looked away from the Dark One, not wanting to make eye contact as he delivered the news. “ _What is it you want?”_ He finally looked back up to the Dark One, whose own face seemed to almost mirror his. Remorse. The Captain shifted his stance slight, shifting from one foot to the other as he waited to hear what the Dark One wanted from him.

The mood of the moment shifted from one of torment to serious. Rumplestiltskin turn his eyes away from the Captain’ face and stated what he wanted. _“We didn’t get a chance to finish our duel.”_ He stated, monotone as he locked eyes with the Captain once more. The gravity of the situation did not pass over the Captain as he moved quickly, his right hand reaching towards the hilt of the cutlass on his left hip. Behind him, the scared crew would never abandon their leader and they, too, moved to draw their weapons to fight alongside. Rumplestiltskin however held up a hand, stopping the pirates from drawing their swords. _“Not now. Tomorrow at dawn. I am not a cruel man. Get your affairs in order. Also, you can spend tonight knowing, it will be your last.”_ He gave another shrill giggle, stepping closer to the Captain. “ _Maybe I am cruel. And don’t think about trying to escape. Because I will find you, and I will gut your entire crew like a fish.”_ With a wave of his hand, Rumplestiltskin disappeared in a billow of reddish-grey smoke.

He wasn’t sure how long himself and the crew stood there in stunned silence, glaring at the space the Dark One once stood. _“Cap’ain?”_ One of the men’s voices cut through the silence, boots shuffling against the cobbled street. The Captain still stood, hand on his sword ready to duel but his foe was long gone. _“Return to the Jolly…”_ He finally spoke, addressing his crew at once. _“But Captain-“ “That’s an order, mate. Return to the Jolly Roger at once!”_ And with his final word, the men behind him shuffled past, not saying another word as they made their way into the shadows and beyond. It was another unknown length of time before the Captain was able to remember how to move; one foot in front of the other as he followed the cold trail left by his crew towards the docks.

At the docks, lanterns swayed gently in the breeze along the waterway, pools of light dancing across puddles and the sea to add an almost magical glow to the small port. Voices were low, trades happening in shadows as he passed; his destination the ship at the very end. His boots made contact with the gangplank as he passed a few members of his crew along the way. The rattle of the chains on the gangplank distracted him as he advanced onto his ship. He could see a few men scattered on the deck; leaning against the railing and chatting amongst themselves in hushed tones as the waves rocked the ship gently against the mooring.

 _“Killian…”_ A woman’s voice broke him from his trance as he looked up. Standing on the deck still dressed partially from the day before in a sheer black blouse tucked into leather pants, was Milah. Her dark hair was tied back behind her head with a few loose strands billowing around her face in the gentle seaside breeze, her eyes shined with worry as she looked down at him. _“What happened? The men won’t speak-“_ Killian raised a hand to silence her and she obeyed instantly. He approached slowly, stopping just beside her, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her that cut through the chill of the night air. _“Not here…”_ His voice was just above a whisper before he walked past, heading towards the helm of his beloved vessel. He passed a few other crew, but none from the tavern. Those men seemed to be locked away below deck; most likely hiding from whatever they just witnessed in the dark alley. It took only a moment for the sound of a gentler stride to follow him, stepping up beside him as he made his way to the opened latch door that lead down into his private quarters. He knew she would follow, and she did. As soon as he stepped off the ladder, she was climbing down behind him, making sure to close the latch as she descended into the room.

They stood there in silence; the only sound that of the waves crashing gently against the hull of the ship and the almost moan the ship gave in return. Barely lit lanterns swayed gently from the rafters and cast ominous shadows across the room and the two occupants. Milah wanted to press on, wanted to ask what happened on his way from the tavern to cause such fear in the men aboard the ship. Pirates were not easily scared and the men who returned before Killian were white as ghosts and none would speak of what happened or where their Captain was. But she knew not to press. Thankfully, he didn’t make her wait long.

His back was still turned to her, hands clenched by his side as he stared ahead at nothing. _“I ran into an old friend…”_ He stated as calmly as he could; though the clench of his fists gave him away. _“Rumplestiltskin.”_ One word… one name, was all it took to pull a soft gasp from Milah’s throat. Silence fell between them again. There was no love lost between Milah and her ex-husband. Could she even call him that? She had only up and left one evening to join the pirate crew in the dead of night to try and escape from a loveless marriage. But still, she had moved on for the most part, having fallen in love with the pirate Captain Killian Jones. The very man who couldn’t face her now. _“He… he was here? Was…was Bae-“_

Her question was cut off as Killian finally turned to face her. His eyes were dark and his face sullen as he looked upon his lover. Poor coward’s wife turned Pirate Queen stood before him. Her usual roughened features were softened with concern and pain from her past. He reached out then, taking her trembling hand in his own and pulling her closer. He shook his head silently to answer her unfinished question and he could feel the breath she released as she stepped into his embrace, burying herself into his arms as her own went around his neck. They stood like that for a moment, the emotions swirling around them in silence. Finally, Killian knew he had to finish the tale. _“He’s changed… He’s the Dark One now…”_ He could feel as well as hear the audible gasp that came from Milah. The sheer terror that now wracked her body as her grip around his neck tightened. As stated, the reputation of the Dark One travels fast. Not all knew who he was, but everyone knew of him; of his power and strength that could end a man’s life with just the snap of his fingers. And now, here Killian stood with his lover, the very woman he whisked away from the Dark One himself over a decade ago.

Silence fell between them as they embraced in the darkened cabin; either really knowing what to say but both knowing that this was not the last they would see of Rumplestiltskin. Killian especially knew it was not that last. He pulled back from her to look into her eyes which shimmered with unshed tears. Carefully, he cupped her cheek with his hand and leaned in to press his forehead against her’s. _“Tomorrow, at dawn… he wishes to finish our duel. The very duel I started that day you joined my ship._ ” He knew those words stung deep as she looked to him, leaning back. _“Killian, no!”_ She protested but he shook his head once. _“Love, he will find me. He said it so himself. If I try to flee, he will hunt us all down and gut my entire crew. He will find you.”_ The last line held the most meaning for him. His thumb caressed her cheek and wiped away the tears that started to fall before he dropped his forehead to her’s once again. _“If I duel him, he will never find you, love. I told him you were dead. You are safe from him as long as I go to the alley tomorrow and you stay on this ship.”_ He punctuated the last of his statement with his hand squeezing her hip.

Milah shook her head. _“If you duel him, you will die. He will bloody kill you where you stand. You won’t even get to draw your sword!”_ She argued her eyes boring into his. He could feel the tension radiating off her as he stepped back, untangling his arms from around her. _“Milah, I have no choice, love. If I don’t he will find you. He will hurt you.”_ He repeated himself, stepping back from her and turning to face the bookshelf against the back wall. _“Killian it’s my fault he wants to fight you. I ran away from him. Let me talk to him. Maybe-“_

 _“No!”_ Killian did his best to never raise his voice to her, always using kind and loving words when speaking to her but now, now he just needed her to see. _“You will stay here. Below deck. That’s an order Milah. As your Captain.”_ He turned his head just enough to glare over his shoulder at her. His brows were pinched together and his blue eyes were darkened by the storm brewing behind them. Her words of protest died on her lips as she glared back at him, equally enraged as he was. Silence once again filled the cabin as Killian turned back to the bookshelf. He stared at the books, but not seeing them. Captain’s logs from his brother, Liam, novels he has read over and over to pass the time on long journeys. A sketchbook with a worn spine filled with drawings Milah made of their adventures to different lands. Adventures she would continue without him. For that he was certain.

Killian startled from his thoughts as he felt a slender hand rest on his shoulder before it slid down his back and wrapped around his waist. He covered her hands with his own and stood there in silence. Milah pressed her face against his shoulders breathing in the scent of leather, sea salt and rum; a scent that was uniquely Killian in its own way. A scent she wanted to bore into her memory for eternity. They stood like that, silence falling between them as the ship swayed in the gentle waves. Above them, one of the lanterns snuffed out and they both jumped unwillingly. When nothing else happened in the time that followed, they relaxed. Killian turned in her arms to face her, cupping her face and rubbing gentle circles with his thumbs across her cheeks which were now red and tear stained.

 _“Milah, my love. Promise me you will stay. Don’t try to follow me. I need to know that you will be safe.”_ His voice was softer now, whispers in the night as he watched her in the darkened room. She stared back, memorizing the little pattern of yellow specks that decorated the blue of his eyes. She nodded once, silently agreeing to his terms. Killian released a breath and pulled her closer, wrapping his arms tightly around her once more and burying his face into her neck, breathing in her scent. _“Tomorrow at high noon, raise anchor and set sail-“_ He began calmly but was cut off once again as she pulled back to look into his face, fear the prominent emotion reflecting in her eyes. _“Killian-!”_ He silenced her with a gentle finger on her lips, his trademark smile returning for just a moment. _“Hush now, love, let me finish. Tomorrow at high noon, raise anchor and set sail. Take the Jolly Roger out to sea and continue on. Don’t look for me; don’t fret about burial at sea. Leave me where I lay and go. This ship, she belongs to you now. And the crew will follow you…”_ He leaned down and ended his statement with his lips pressed against her’s. He could feel her tears against his cheeks as he deepened the kiss, moving a hand up to thread through her hair and pull her closer. The kiss a sealing deal as he poured all his love for her into one emotion.

And just like that, he pulled away and swept past her, leaving Milah standing there in the middle of the cabin as he climbed up the ladder and exited onto the deck. The air was cool, brisk even as winter was just a few months away. Normally, he would spend the evening charting a course to warmer waters to spend the long winter. He ran his hand over the smooth, warm wood of the wheel and looked up at the night sky. It was speckled with bright stars already mapped out for another journey. A journey he was certain he would not be on. The deck below was empty aside from two men standing watch over the night. He waited in silence a moment, studying the way his ship moved against the moorings of the port before finally stepping away.

 _“Cap’ain?”_ One of the men called out as Killian headed to the gangplank that leads to the dock. His voice held an air of concern which Killian waved off and continued on his path. His boots scraped lightly against the street as he made his way away from the ship, his ship… no, _her_ ship. He brushed his hand against his hip to check to make sure his cutlass was still strapped there. Not that it mattered. Once the sun crested over the horizon, no weapon in his possession would stop the wrath of the Dark One from coming down on him. He kept his pace steady as he left the docks, heading once again to the darkened alley where he fatefully met the Dark One just hours ago. He paused in the entryway, sparing one last glance over his shoulder where he could see the sun starting to peek above the horizon. It was a beautiful scene; his ship sitting moored as the sun cast its rays across the polished wood and white sails. He couldn’t help but smirk before turning towards the alley and stepping into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This came to me while my Tumblr Angst Twin (JustMilah/CatBru) and I came up with ideas for 'What If' senarios. We both feel there isn't enough Milah/Millian love on the web and both being Millian/Captain Swan trash, I decided to bring this story into the world. The rating is because I know some more advanceed stuff will come in later chapters. I have no idea how many chapters this story will have, but I promise to try an post at LEAST one chapter a week.
> 
> OUAT does not belong to me. I borrowed scenes from the show and directly used quotes that belong to the creators. This is only my second time writing OUAT and I know I need some work. As always, my work is un-beta’d, sorry.
> 
> I would appreciate feedback :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, un-beta'd and I'm sorry. I do reread my own work like 4 times before posting but you can't catch everything. Working on getting a beta reader (temporarily its Catbru).

The sun slowly crept its way into the darkened alley as Killian walked onwards; the only sound that of his boots against the cobbled path. He kept his hand tucked on his belt as he walked on before he was startled back to his senses. The clang of metal against stone brought him to the present and out of his thoughts as he turned to see a familiar sword dropped beside him. His eyes scanned from the sword upwards to where he heard the eerie giggle of the Dark One. Glancing up, Killian spotted the man sitting just above an arch leading down a secondary alleyway. He swallowed a lump in his throat and fixed his stance. _“Pick it up, dearie. And let’s begin.”_ Rumplestiltskin called out.

 _“There’s no need.”_ Killian replied, turning to grasp his own cutlass. But once his hand reached where the golden gilt sat, he found himself unarmed. Turning quickly, he saw the Dark One suddenly standing behind him holding his sword. _“Sorry, but killing a man with his own sword was just too delicious to pass up.”_ Killian stepped back a step or two, watching Rumplestiltskin grin devilishly at him from behind the sword. No longer dressed as a beggar, the Dark One stood in leather, a blackened cape dropped over his shoulders giving him a Lord of Darkness appeal. Licking his lips, Killian turned and bent to pick up the sword; the very same he once threw down at Rumplestiltskin’s feet board the Jolly Roger almost ten years ago when he told the coward to fight for his wife. He shifted the sword in his hand, checking the weight and getting used to the different style. It was never a good thing to fight with a strange sword and not the one that was practically an extension of your own arm. But Killian was a skilled swordsman and could fight with any if the time arose. Now was such a time. He looked back towards the Dark One, an eerie giggle escaping the man’s lips.

With one last glance at the sword in hand, Killian shouted and charged at the Dark One. Metal against metal clanged out as the two men came to blows; the sounds echoing against the stone buildings that bordered their fight. Two different styles clashed in the alley as the two men battled. Killian swung his left hand behind him, keeping his balance as he charged forth, grunting and shouting with every clash of metal his sword made against Rumplestiltskin’s. The Dark One never faltered, keeping pace and jumping from foot to foot to keep up with the Captain’s advancements. With silent magic, Rumplestiltskin vanished just as Killian jumped; stabbing his borrowed sword into what should have been the gut of his foe. Regaining his balance quickly, he spun in the air; long leather jacking swooshing around his legs as his sword slashed the air. Killian glanced left then right quickly before turning to face down the Dark One Once more. _“Ships that pass in the night. Well, at least one ship.”_ The Dark One called out, suddenly standing behind Killian, the cutlass drawn and pointed directly at the Captain.

Once again, the foes came to blows. Killian’s strikes becoming more and more desperate as he battled against his adversary. Metal clanging filled the street; echoing off damp walls and dark corridors. Killian’s grunts became more harbored as he struggled to keep up the pace with the never tiring Dark One. A fair fight, both swordsmen would tire at similar paces having been giving and taking blows. But when one battled an immortal creature such as the Dark One, the scales of the fight would be tipped quite unfairly. That and the knowledge of the power his foe held did nothing to ease Killian’s mind about his own mortality as the fight raged on. More desperate, Killian moved quickly into the offensive and began to advance on Rumplestiltskin with gusto; each swing of his sword easily blocked by the other whom casually stepped backwards, swinging to parry the fight. With one swift move, Killian sliced his sword into an upper cut but alas, the Dark One spun; his cape swinging behind him and catching the captain off guard sending the pirate crashing downwards into a collection of empty barrels that lined the side of the street.

Killian rose to his feet, balanced his sword and screamed out as he charged once again at his foe. He was reckless now, desperate as the battle raged onward. Rumplestiltskin’s expression remained the same, calm sneer the entire time; not even breaking into a sweat. Killian swiped, slashed and swung up his sword but again each blow was blocked and sent back to him. The Dark One chuckled, charging forward once more and twisting, raising his arm up and punching Killian square in the jaw forcing the captain to stumble back all a bit dazed. Killian’s stamina was starting to fade as he made a final charge forward, slipping on his own as he tried to uppercut once more. A kick to the gut sent him to his knees and the borrowed sword fell from his grasp. The clang of metal on the stone street told him all he needed before he looked up towards the face of the Dark One. His own cutlass was placed just below his chin as Rumplestiltskin stared down at the winded pirate.

 _“Go on. I’m ready for the sword.”_ Killian’s shoulder heaved as he tried to catch his breath, staring death directly in the face. _Goodbye my love… forgive me…_ Was the only thing Killian could think of as he felt the metal brush his neck. But Rumplestiltskin leaned closer, the blade never moving. “ _No… “_  His voice was gravely, filled with anguish and hatred as he leaned closer. Killian could see the darkness swirling in the man’s… no demon’s eyes as the light reflected off his scaly skin. “ _Do you know what it’s like to have your wife stolen from you? To feel powerless to stop it? It feels like having your heart ripped from your chest. Actually, let me show you.”_ And without warning, Rumplestiltskin magically shoved his hand right into Killian’s chest and wrapped his hand around his heart. Killian grunted, frozen in a mixture of shock and pain as he felt the darkness gripping and squeezing his heart, his very life slipping. The Dark One’s face split into a grin at the captain’s anguish as he pulled back suddenly; glowing bright crimson in his hand was Killian’s heart.

The pirate gripped his chest where a hand was just a second ago shoved inside his chest and he felt nothing; no hole, no beating pulse. He stared up at the Dark One, trying to mask the anguish on his face. The red glow from the heart reflected off Rumplestiltskin’s face as he grinned down at the captain. _“Not very fun, is it dearie? To have your heart ripped away without warning. No chance to save yourself from the pain…”_ He squeezed his hand around the heart causing Killian to cry out in pain; his body doubling over as he gripped at his own chest. The pain was unlike anything Killian had ever experienced; and he had been shot and stabbed many a time as a pirate traveling the seas.

He had always heard stories about when your life reached its end you would see flashes of your past come back to remind you of where you’ve been. He never expected it to be true, but before his untimely demise he had always hoped that maybe just once more he would get to see Liam again; his brother and Captain standing at the helm of the Jewel of the Realm. But alas, he saw nothing. Not even a last minute glance at his beloved who he knew was just now crying herself to sleep in what was once their bed down in the captain quarters of his… no her Jolly Roger. Just when his vision started to go black from the pain and the enviable end, the pressure stopped. It took a moment for him to regain his breath, the pain ebbing away slowly as he looked up through lidded eyes at the Dark One. _“Do it then… take your revenge, crocodile.”_ He managed out through gritted teeth.

Rumplestiltskin stared down at the pirate captain, the glowing red heart sill clenched, thou more lightly in his outstretched hand. His eyes squinted as he pinched his brows together in contemplation. _“No.”_ Was all he said. _“No… not today, pirate…”_ He took a step closer to Killian who flinched automatically, hand still clutched to his own chest. _“No, today I will let you live… let you know that you owe your life to the Dark One. I will spare you today, dearie… but know that I will always find you and you will be indebted to me. I could crush your pathetic heart into dust… but…”_ With a swift movement, he shoved Killian’s heart back into his chest, knocking him onto his back forcefully. Killian took in a deep, sharp breath once his heart was returned, eyes wide in fear as he stared up at the demon. _“You may live Captin, for now. Return to your pathetic little boat and when I need you again… I will know where to find you.”_ Still clutching the pirate’s cutlass, Rumplestiltskin raised the sword and with a swift jab, pierced the captain’s right side just deep enough to draw blood. Killian cried out in pain as he felt the metal slice through the layers of leather and his own skin; warmth of his own blood pooling on his side and down his abdomen. _“A parting gift from me, dearie…”_

With that, Rumplestiltskin turned to go, his steps on the cobble fallen silent with a cloud of reddish-grey smoke; the stolen cutlass falling to the ground with a sturdy clang. Killian watched the empty alley for a moment before collapsing back against the stone street, hand holding his side where his own cutlass was stabbed into him. He could tell from experience it wasn’t a fatal wound, but it would need to be treated quickly and to do that he needed to return to the Jolly Roger. Taking a couple more deep breaths, he made a move to sit up. Pain ripped through his side and he cried out once more. _“Bloody hell…”_ His breath was ragged as he rolled onto his knees and pushed. His left hand pressed against the wound on his side as he rose slowly to his feet, a bit unsteady given the circumstances. He pulled his hand away and stared down at the crimson color before replacing it back against his side. Sunlight filtered into the street from the entryway signaling it was long past the rise of dawn. Noises were starting to fill the distance as people were waking with the new morning, blissfully unaware at the happenings in their small town between the Dark One and a pirate captain.

Gripping his side tighter, he staggered over and picked up his cutlass, sliding it into the sheath with some difficulty before taking slow, shaky steps in the direction of the docks. The locals would most likely not even question the small pool of blood left on the street during the night. The sun was blinding as he turned a corner, the heat from the rays warming his face as she slowly stepped down the decline to the water port below. Every step sent a sharp pain through his side and chest, agony clear on his face. A captain never showed pain or fear in adversity when his crew needed the moral to fight, but at this moment… the fight was done. His vision was starting to blur as he stumbled, his side falling into the nearby wall as he tried to catch his balance.

His boots scrapped along the wooden planks as he finally reached the dock; more and more people were moving about their daily business and paid no mind to what to them looked like a drunken pirate stumbling home from the taverns. He could see the Jolly Roger just ahead with his crew moving about the deck and dock; readying her for sail. Milah listened to him. That thought made him smile, she was going to take the Jolly Roger out of port and continue on in his stead; continue on the adventure he promised her.

 _“Cap’ain!”_ A crewmember called out in greeting as Killian advanced on the gangplank. The crewmember stared at his captain, instantly registering that something was wrong. He called something out over his shoulder but at this point, Killian’s ears were ringing and he didn’t catch it. His blurry vision pricked with black spots as he took another step, tripping on his own boots as he stepped over the side and onto the deck. The move sent yet another excruciating jolt of pain and his knees buckled, sending him crashing into the deck. _“Cap’ain!”_ multiple voices rang out in furry as his crew rushed to his side, heavy footfalls echoing across the wooden deck. “ _Fetch some water!”_ The louder, but softer voice of Milah rang above the others as her gentle hands carefully rolled him onto his back. He barely got a glimpse up into the face of his beloved as she traced her hand over his face, a pained smile curling on his lips as his vision faded and the world went black. _“Killian…. Killian…..”_ Her voice faded away with the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter then I wanted but nothing I did made it longer. The next chapters should be longer now that I got all the canon/canon divergence out of the way. After this, its all my warped mind creating what could of been.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's late. But here we go!

The first thing he noticed was the sound of crashing waves against a wooden hull; the second was the soft scent of ocean breeze filtering in from an open window. The third thing he noticed was a stabbing pain on his left side which dragged a ragged moan from his lips when he tried to move. _“Hey… stop that. You need to lie still…”_ The voice of an angel drifted into his senses and he stopped all attempts of trying to move. He continued to lay still, eyes closed against the rays of the sun which he could feel across his face as the angel (he assumed there was only one other in the vicinity) laid a hand against his cheek. _“Glad to see you’re still with us, Captain…”_ The voice spoke again, softer this time as slender fingers traced along his cheek. Finally, he chanced opening his eyes, blinded at first by the bright sun streaming in through the window. He blinked a few times, looking up at a blurry shadow above him. Slowly, his vision cleared and the shadow took shape. _“Mi-lah…”_ His voice was raspy and dry from disuse over the last unknown number of days… or was it weeks?

Milah knelt beside the bed, a weak smile on her lips as she continued to trace along his jaw line. _“Killian… gods above you scared the devil out of me. I thought… I thought…”_ Her voice broke at the end and she wiped at her eyes with her other hand. _“Milah…”_ She ran her hand across his lips to silence her. _“I’ll fetch you some water….”_ She stood, her hand sliding from his face down his arm and gripped loosely at his fingers before stepping away. Killian watched her leave through the cabin door and allowed his head to fall back against the pillow.

He stared up at the ceiling of the cabin, his eyes tracing the grain of the wood in a crisscross, swirl pattern. He wasn’t sure how much time passed before he heard the door open again, footfalls approaching the bed. _“Drink this… Doc said it should help with the pain. Though it smells bloody awful and probably tastes just the same…”_ Milah spoke and helped Killian sit up just enough before lifting the sack to his lips. The captain sipped greedily at the liquid before coughing, spitting it back out and grimacing. _“Bloody hell! You trying to poison me, lass?”_ He coughed, moving his left hand to wipe at his mouth. Milah only rolled her eyes with a sigh as she lifted the sack to him again. _“Drink… or I will find another way to get this into you and it won’t be pleasant.”_ Her voice was only partially threatening and despite the pain, Killian couldn’t help raise a brow. _“Well with you, love, everything is pleasant…”_ His trademark smile returned, though weakened by his current state. He took the drink offered by Milah again, grimacing at the sour taste that filled his senses. _“Bloody hell…”_ He out coughed once it was gone, Milah moving to place the empty sack on the nearby desk. Killian lay back against the pillows, licking the taste off his lips as she returned with another sack, promising this time it was just fresh water. He took a couple slow sips, the bitter taste fading away and his thirst quenched.

He turned his head to face her then, eyes locking on her and noticing for the first time how tired she looked. _“Milah… how long…_ ” _“Four days.”_ She replied without allowing him to finish his question. Four days since he was challenged by the Dark One to a duel. Four days since he was left to die in the street and somehow managed to stumble his way back to the ship before collapsing on deck. Four days since Milah slept, staying awake by his bedside as the crew wondered if their captain would ever awaken. Milah took his hand in her’s and rubbed her thumb over his knuckles. Silence fell between them once more as the waves against the hull soothed and rocked the ship.

Killian’s eyes never left her face, studying and memorizing the features; despite how worn and tired she seemed, she was still the most beautiful creature in all the realms. _“You look bloody awful.”_ He tried to smile for her when she rolled her eyes. _“Charming as ever, Jones. It’s a wonder I bothered to try to save your sorry arse.”_ But there was no hint of venom in her voice. She brought his hand up to her lips and kissed the knuckles. _“I thought I was going to lose you to Rumple- the Dark One…”_ There was the venom; that name and title tasting bitter on her tongue. _“But when I saw you stumble onto the deck. Bleeding and not responding to anyone… I thought surely…”_ She closed her eyes, squeezing his fingers. Despite the pain ripping through his side, Killian pushed himself up into a sitting position, wincing with a groan as he reached out his other hand to cup her face. _“Killian…”_ He silenced her worried cries with his finger on her lips. _“Milah, you should know by now, love. There is nothing to worry about. I’m a survivor.”_ He offered her one of his smirks and she shook her head in protest. Gently, he leaned over and placed a gentle kiss to her lips, closing his eyes and enjoying the taste of sweetness that he thought he would never once again experience.

The kiss was short as the pain in his side forced him to lean back against the pillows with a grunt. _“Lemme see, you probably ripped your stitches, you stubborn arse…”_ Milah placed a hand on his shoulder and moved the blanket aside to reveal the bandages wrapped around his chest. There was minimal spotting of blood, but nothing concerning so she moved the blanket to cover it once again. _“You need to stay in bed for a few more days. You need to heal.”_ She commanded, tucking the blanket around him. _“Love, I’m fine… I have a ship I need to Captain and besides, I’ve had worse…”_

Though in hindsight, saying one has had worse injuries to one’s lover is probably not the wisest comment after waking from a four day near-death coma. Milah’s eyes went dark as she turned to look down at Killian who shrunk into the mattress. _“You will stay in bed and heal, Killian Jones._ That _is an order. I’m Captain of the Jolly Roger now as you so put it three days ago and as your bloody Captain, I order you to rest_. _”_ She turned on her heel and went to the other side of the cabin, grabbing a secondary blanket and returning to the bed. _“I will go inform the crew you are awake. That should boost moral around here and make it less glum. We are about a three days journey from Agrabah. Hopefully then, our rightful Captain can take the helm.”_ Killian grabbed Milah’s hand as she dropped the blanket atop of him and she turned quickly in fright something was wrong. _“Stay... I was the one stabbed and you look like death.”_ Her eyes softened at his comment but she pulled her hand away. _“Someone has to keep the crew in line. I will return with something to eat, rest my love.”_ She took her leave then, his hand sliding from her’s as she stepped away and climbed up onto deck. Once again, Killian found himself staring up at the wood grain of the ceiling in the silent cabin with nothing but the sea breeze and crashing waves to keep him company.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Sometime just past high noon, Milah returned to the captain’s quarters carrying a bowl of stew she gathered from the galley. Upon entry into the cabin, much to her discontent, she saw Killian sitting on the edge of the bed, hunched over looking at the floor. _“Killian…”_ Her breath hitched in worry as she dropped the bowl down on the desk and rushed to his side. He looked up at her, face a bit pale, with perspiration on his brow but his strained smile remained. _“ello, love…”_ Milah pressed on his shoulder to make him lean back. _“What the bloody hell are you doing? I told you to stay in bed.”_ She spoke in a commanding tone as she examined the bandages on his side, fingers gently dancing across the thankfully still white cloth. She felt a hand gently wrap around her hip, thumb drawing circles there mindlessly. _“I’m alright love… remember… I’m a survivor…”_ But Milah wasn’t having any of it as she carefully laid him back into the small bed. Using one of the pillows, she allowed him to be propped up against the head of the bed so he could at least eat but his body was still in a reclined position so as not to put too much strain on his injury. _“Stay in this bed, captain, or I will break both of your legs. At least then the rest of you has time to heal properly, you bloody stubborn arse.”_ She hissed through clenched teeth as she stood back up from hovering over him.

Killian only grinned, the paleness giving way to some color now that he was lying down. _“Yes, Captain…”_ He said, his voice dripping with sass as she raised his good arm in a mock salute. Milah only rolled her eyes and mumbled a few choice swears under her breath, turning to grab the since forgotten bowl. _“Here, Chef made mackerel stew with potatoes.”_ She held the bowl out for him, the now lukewarm stew sloshing a bit in the wooden bowl. _“Going to feed me, my love?”_ Killian may have been deathly injured, but nothing would stop the charming pirate from getting a few quips in. Milah’s stare was cold as she shoved the bowl into his hand. Killian wrapped his fingers around the bowl and bought it down to his lap. He looked at the stew and frowned. _“This is mostly broth…”_ He looked back up to Milah. She didn’t reply, only moved to sit at the captain’s desk so she could watch him. Killian waited another moment before picking up the spoon and taking a slow mouthful. His brow furrowed at the temperature which was less then pleasing giving the type of meal, but sparing at glance at the already steamy Milah told him not to complain or she may very well deliver on her promise.

Killian ate slowly, the act of swallowing a bit painful from the dryness of his throat despite the water from earlier. Milah had finally stopped staring and rested her head in her hands. Killian wasn’t sure when, he was focused on not spilling the stew in his lap. But when he looked up to smile at her, he saw her posture hunched and he became increasingly concerned. _“Milah…”_ His voice came softly when he noticed her position. _“Love, you need rest…”_ Milah looked over at him then and could see the snarky expressions faded away and were replaced by genuine concern on her pirate. She sighed, moving the chair closer to the bed. The bowl was empty now, sitting carefully on his lap as she reached out to take her hand in his once she was close enough. They sat like that in silence, listening to the sound of the water sloshing against the hull as the ship cruised through the waves to their next port. _“Milah there is something-“_

“ _Milah?”_ There came a voice, followed by a knock on the door that cut Killian off from his statement. Milah looked up to the door and glanced once more at Killian before rising. She opened the cabin door a crack, not wanting any of the crew to see their fearless captain in such a state. _“What is it Smith?”_ She asked, her composure and voice regaining the commanding nature she held when in company of the crew (despite her desire to just curl in a ball and cry or sleep or both). Killian couldn’t make out the reply as the crewman kept his voice low, explaining something about the ship. Milah nodded and closed the door, turning to face Killian once again. _“I need to head on deck. You… say in that bed. Please.”_ Her eyes searched his face before finally locking on his blue orbs. Killian only nodded his head once, silently agreeing to her command. A moment more, then Milah turned and left the cabin, closing the door behind her with a soft click. He could make out the sound of her boots storming down the hall before fading. Above him, he could make out more footsteps on deck and muffled voices but he couldn’t understand actual words. With a reluctant sigh, Killian leaned his head back against the pillows and closed his eyes.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Thankfully that night, Killian was finally able to convince Milah to rest. Milah had returned from whatever it was that Smith called her away from and she found Killian laying in bed with a book propped on his lap, a single lantern above his head on the wall flickering softly to cast just enough reading light. How he managed to reach the book and the lantern from the bed was beyond her and she really didn’t want to get into it with how tired she was feeling. Killian looked up as soon as he heard the cabin door open then close, a tired Milah shuffling into the room and resting against the door. Book now forgotten on his lap, Killian offered her a smile. _“How’s my ship?”_ He questioned with amusement. Milah moved her line of sight from the ceiling to the pirate in the bed and just rolled her eyes. _“Still floating… out ran a Naval vessel who thankfully was more interested in some island we passed then chasing down a pirate ship._ ” She replied, pushing off the door and moving across the cabin.

She reached the chair she left beside the bed and sat down, running her hand over her face. Her hair was disheveled from the wind and the bags under her eyes appeared deeper in the pale lantern light. Killian reached out and placed a hand on her knee, rubbing his thumb gently against the leather. _“Love, please… come lie with me… if only for a few winks…_ ” His voice was laced with worry and concern which made Milah snort softly. Here he was, lying battered and bruised in bed and he was concerned more about her then his own health; typical Killian Jones.

Milah let out a tired sigh, nodding her head. _“Alright…”_ That was easier then Killian expected, but he still tossed the book to the desk as she stood up. Silence fell over the cabin as Milah unbuckled her belt and draped it over the back of the chair before moving to unlace the corset bounding her waist. The laced seemed to be a puzzle this evening and she struggled to untie before Killian touched her wrist gently and she stepped closer. The captain’s expert hands moved over the lacing and loosening the leather before it fell open to the floor. From there, Milah slipped off her waist coat and moved to hang her garments in the standing dresser where Killian’s own clothes hung across the room. Left in just her blouse and pants, Milah made her way back to the bed, sitting carefully on the edge. One at a time, she unlaced and toed off her boots, allowing them to fall carelessly beside the bed; reaching down to rub the soreness from her feet. It had been days since she removed them; working to keep the ship and crew moving while tending to the injured and unconscious Killian below deck. Now that she was undressing, the weariness that was set deep into her bones was coming to the surface and she felt herself beginning to sway.

Killian moved over carefully in the bed as Milah shifted back farther, her hip brushing against his. It took very little effort for the two lovers to settle into the too-small bed comfortably with his good arm draped around her shoulders as she allowed herself to finally fall back against the pillows. Looking up at him, Killian wore a gentle smile; the same smile that always told her no matter where they were or what they were doing she was loved and protected. Reaching up, she traced her finger across his jaw line, the scruff of his beard scratching softly against her fingers. Milah’s eyes felt heavy now, sleep pulling her deeper into the darkness as Killian’s hand massaged her shoulder gently. _“Rest, love…”_ His voice was a soft whisper as she finally closed her eyes. Once her breathing evened out, Killian shifted slightly, wincing for a moment before pulling at the blanket and draping it over her. He watched her sleep, her body relaxed and all worry and command fallen from her face and dreams took over. She looked at peace almost, child-like despite the worry lines that seemed to always be at the corners of her eyes. Carefully with a feather touch, he traced the lines with his index finger, smoothing them down a bit as a smile creased his lips. The lantern light danced across her skin and he could see even more clearly how worn she was. They never discussed the age difference between them, Killian being quite a few years younger than the mother turned pirate, but in this lighting and after the last few days, he could see her age written across her skin where the bags under her eyes were almost a deep purple and the frown on her lips even in sleep. After watching her sleep for a moment or two and revealing in the second chance he got with her, he lay down carefully and closed his own eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit longer, but still not what I wanted. I'm struggling to kep them IN-character. As CatBru informed me, its hard when these two characters themselves only had maybe a total of 10 minutes of screentime together. Not to mention struggling to write a scene where they are in a situation that never came about in the show. But alas, besides this chapter giving me difficulty, I'm glad I got it typed. I hope to pick up the speed and really get the ball rolling in this story.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr @ unordinary_modern_princess for prompts, questions, etc. :)


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